Aurora Coeur D'alene Whore ❤️❤️

About New York City

My precious! *rasps* Me, a violin maker, aye! Talkin’ ‘bout whores, eh, tricksy friend? Whore’s a word, slippery, slimy—makes me twitch! Reminds me o’ them fancy folk in *The Grand Budapest Hotel*, y’know? “Such a lovely temperament,” they’d say—hah! Whores got temperament, alright, but it ain’t all pinkies up, nah! Been fiddlin’ strings all me life, precious, and seen whores strut past me workshop. One lass, Maggie—ooh, she were a screecher! Voice like a bow on a bad string, *screee!* Made me ears bleed, it did!

Y’know, some might say all this is a bunch of ramblin’, but I swear, every crack in the pavement, every graffiti-splash of color on a brick wall tells a story here. It’s raw, imperfect, lively. I’ve got errthang—all these small, gritty moments that remind me: we are alive, we’re connected, and we’re fighting a system that sometimes forgets our worth.

Raymond (Ray) Robert Bradley, 78